Chronicles of an Old Inn; Or, A Few Words about Gray's Inn

Part 6

Chapter 64,081 wordsPublic domain

Whenever he could obtain a little relaxation from the press of public business, he would hasten to the country, for his great delight was to improve and beautify both his family seat at Burleigh and his house and gardens at Theobalds; but above all he loved Theobalds, and, as he expresses it, always fled there whenever it was possible to bury himself in its delightful privacy.

Lord Burleigh had also two other places of residence--his lodgings at Court, and his house on the Strand. In his house in London he had fifty persons of his family, and his expenses there, he writes to a friend, were thirty pounds a week when absent, and between forty and fifty when present. At Theobalds he had thirty persons of his household. Besides the sum he gave away in charity, he directed that ten pounds a week were always to be laid out in keeping the "poor" at work in his gardens. His stables cost him about a thousand marks a year.

In his service, or, rather, in his household, he had ever young men of much distinction, they deeming it an honour to serve him.

Besides his customary hospitality, he several times entertained the Queen sumptuously, and at an expense of many thousand pounds.

He built three fine houses--one in London, on the Strand, another at Theobalds, and a third at Burleigh. All these houses were, though large and grand, still more remarkable from their neatness and general convenience.

Though thus spending both liberally and magnificently, Burleigh was ever prudent and careful. He took good heed as to how his money went. He kept rigid accounts, and attended carefully, even minutely, to all domestic matters.

Writing to a friend respecting household arrangements, he says:

"My house of Burghley is of my mother's inheritance, who liveth and is the owner thereof. I am but a farmer; yet, when I am in the country, I must buy my grain, my beef, my mutton; and, for my stable, I buy my hay for the greatest part, my oats and my straw totally."

When in the country he loved to walk about and talk to the country folk, and would often stop to soothe little children in their troubles, or watch them in their play, so gentle was his temper, so abundant was his good-nature.

At his death, notwithstanding his liberal and magnificent expenditure, and though he was so little avaricious that he made less during his forty years of office than most men at that period would have made in seven, so prudently had he managed his affairs, that he left about £4,000 a year in land, £11,000 in money, and about £14,000 in valuable effects.

SIR EDWARD COKE.

Although Sir Edward Coke, Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench during the reign of James I., was not a member of the Ancient and Honourable Society of Gray's Inn, yet, as his portrait hangs in the Great Hall, and as he occupied himself much in the affairs of this Inn of Court, a few words respecting this eminent lawyer may not be misplaced here.

There has probably never been a more consummate master of his profession than Sir Edward Coke. His interest in it amounted to enthusiasm. He loved to grapple with every legal difficulty, and brought to bear upon all its intricate technicalities a dispassionate calmness that unfortunately failed him in the ordinary affairs of life. For this reason he was even a greater man during the periods of his disgrace than when most triumphant.

During these seasons of enforced retirement he could devote himself to a subject that he loved, and with which he was thoroughly conversant, whereas the too great energy of his character, whilst in the enjoyment of successful power, led to his giving way to intemperate violence both of expression and action.

Like most distinguished lawyers, success came to him early in life. One of his first cases was a remarkable one, and brought him much credit.

Mr. Edward Denny was Vicar of Northlinham in Norfolk, and the then Lord Cromwell, who lived in the neighbourhood, procured two persons to preach several sermons in Mr. Denny's church.

Both these persons took the opportunity thus afforded them of inveighing against the Book of Common Prayer, styling it superstitious and impious.

For this reason, the Vicar, having learnt they had no license, when one of them came next to preach would have prevented him, but the man being protected by Lord Cromwell insisted on preaching, and did preach.

This proceeding caused warm words to pass between Lord Cromwell and the Vicar, the former saying:

"Thou art a false varlet, and I like not of thee."

To which the latter replied:

"It is no marvel that you like not of me, as you like those others" (meaning the preachers) "that maintain sedition against the Queen's proceedings."

Upon this Lord Cromwell brought an action against the Vicar, _de scandalis magnatum_. The defendant justified, thereupon the plaintiff demurred, and the bar was held insufficient; but upon a motion in arrest of judgment, that the declaration was insufficient, the Court gave judgment for the defendant.

Lord Cromwell then brought another action, and so the matter went on for years until Coke became engaged in the case, and he so skilfully seized the opportunity of managing and reporting it that his name was at once brought favourably before the public.

His marriage with Bridgett, daughter and co-heiress of John Paxton, Esq., a lady, with whom he had £35,000, and who was allied to some of the most powerful families in the kingdom, doubtless aided him in his career, although in after life he was wont to boast that he had triumphed neither by "pen nor purse," signifying thereby that he had never craved any man's help, nor had he ever opened his purse to buy any place.

His perfect knowledge of the laws of England, and his wonderful memory in recalling every technical circumstance bearing on or connected with those laws, was something marvellous. For this reason his judgments on all legal points have ever been held to be of exceeding value.

Unhappily in criminal trials his warmth of temper and his violence of language tended much to injure his reputation and to lessen him in the opinion of the world. Still, in spite of these great defects, his unequalled talents forced men to yield to his judgment, and however much they might condemn him they bowed to his will.

A notable instance of this occurred during the famous trial of Sir Walter Raleigh.

Sir Edward Coke, who was then Attorney-General, conducted the case on behalf of the Crown, and expressed himself with such energy against the prisoner, that Lord Cecil at length interfered and desired him to be more patient.

Much offended, Coke at once sat down, and preserved an angry silence. At length the Commissioners were compelled to entreat him to continue his address. For some time he refused; then suddenly rising, with a power and skill that electrified all present, he recapitulated the charges. So powerful were his words, so lucid were his arguments, that it was evident from that moment that the prisoner's doom was sealed.

The scene that day in the Court at Winchester, where the trial took place, must have been alike impressive and sorrowful.

The handsome, gallant Sir Walter Raleigh, the quondam favourite of the Queen, for years the popular hero of the nation, now worn and bent by age and many troubles, is standing at the bar, to be tried for his life, accused of treason against his Sovereign and against his country.

Brave he has ever been, brave he is now, and the noble face, though pale and haggard, is stern and composed. Unmoved in look or action, he listens attentively to the words of one who is urging the Judges, with all the might of burning eloquence, to pronounce him worthy of death.

Perchance for one moment a gleam of hope may have entered the prisoner's breast when he heard Lord Cecil speak, but if so, it must have been speedily dispelled when the Attorney-General addressed the Court.

Spare in form, exquisitely neat in dress, passionate in action and emphasis, the fiery and searching eye of the great lawyer seems to scan alike the thoughts as well as the faces of those on whom he looks. And his voice, deep yet penetrating, has a ring that stirs men's hearts, and brings conviction in its very accents.

With terrible minuteness, and with crushing legal skill, he states every circumstance that can tell against the accused, and each powerfully-worded sentence that fell from the lips of the Counsel for the Crown must, to the friends of the unhappy man, have been as another nail driven into the coffin that awaited him.

Long ere that famous speech was ended, hope and suspense must have been over for the prisoner. The evidence against him had been slender, but Coke's eloquence prevailed. Sir Walter was found guilty, and condemned to death.

For a month he lay in prison, daily expecting his execution. Then he was reprieved, and sent to the Tower, where he remained a prisoner for sixteen long years.

After his release, he organised an expedition to Guiana, but, failing in this, he returned to England, where he was soon after seized, imprisoned, and beheaded, not for any fresh crime or misdemeanour, but solely on the strength of his former trial and condemnation nineteen years previously. He was executed in Old Palace Yard, 1618, and died, as he had lived, a brave and resolute man.

Coke's speech on this occasion, and also another made at the trial of Sir Everard Digby, are masterpieces of skill and intelligence; but, although such brilliant displays of eloquence and learning increased his reputation as a lawyer, or rather as an orator, it was felt by the world in general that he had permitted himself a license of expression not seemly in one who held so high and responsible a position.

These speeches, nevertheless, led to his promotion, for soon afterwards he was appointed Chief Justice of the Common Pleas.

This place fulfilled all his ambition, and here he would have willingly remained, but his bitter tongue, his caustic remarks, his intolerance of the least opposition, made him many enemies, many detractors.

His foes calculated that were he placed in a position of greater power, and therefore of greater prominence, his many faults of temper would, notwithstanding his profound legal knowledge, speedily lead to his downfall.

They suggested, therefore, that his talents merited a higher post, and after a time they succeeded in having him raised to the more elevated, but, in those days, perilous position of Chief Justice of the King's Bench, or as he styled himself, Chief Justice of England.

They calculated, and the result showed they were correct, that on account of the class of cases ordinarily brought within the jurisdiction of the King's Bench, the Chief Justice would ere long find himself at antagonism with the Court.

The annals of the Law Courts at this period of English history are terrible to read. It is frightful to see on what slight grounds men were accused, tried, convicted, and executed for treason.

Verily, in those days our laws appeared to have been written in blood; but, notwithstanding their severity, it was for having shown too great _leniency_ in an affair that occurred about two years after he was made Chief Justice that Sir Edward lost the King's favour.

This extraordinary and dreadful business was the discovery that Sir Thomas Overbury had been murdered in the Tower, and as light was gradually thrown on this dark matter, it became more and more evident that great and powerful personages were deeply implicated, not only in the foul murder, but also in other crimes of the most heinous and disgraceful description.

In tracing and detecting the secrets of this black business, Lord Chief Justice Coke showed so much zeal and diligence that he succeeded in having apprehended and brought to justice some of the (apparently) principal culprits, in spite, not only of the attempts that were first made to enable them to escape, but of the influence that was afterwards employed to stay their execution.

Richard Weston, who had been Overbury's keeper in the Tower, was early brought to trial. At first he seemed resolved to be silent on every subject, induced thereto, it is said, by an immense bribe from the Earl of Somerset, but at length he was prevailed on to plead.

Poor wretch, the "persuasions" to which he yielded were the thumbscrew and the rack, but no sooner did he plead than he was speedily convicted and executed. Even at the foot of the gallows the miserable creature was not left in peace. Lord Clare, Sir John Wentworth, and Mr. Lumsden (friends of Somerset) attended him to the scaffold, and vehemently urged him to declare, in these his last moments, that a conspiracy had been concocted against Somerset.

So evident was it that Overbury's murder concealed even darker secrets, and that these secrets implicated powerful and therefore formidable personages, that Sir Edward, with his keen legal foresight, early foresaw peril. So imminent, indeed, did he consider the danger, that he went to the King at Royston to beg His Majesty would appoint a commission to assist him during the necessary investigations, and thus in some degree enable him to share the onus with others.

It has been hinted by some historians that the King knew more about this hateful matter than he cared to acknowledge.

James I. was a shrewd and prudent man; he was timid also, and ever shrank from allowing his name to be involved in any way with affairs that would be distasteful to, or unpopular amongst, his newly-acquired people. His shrewdness and his fears, however, led in several instances to his acting in both a cowardly and a treacherous manner.

In this case, whatever may have been the knowledge the King possessed, he skilfully concealed his suspicions from the chief person implicated. When informed of Overbury's murder, without a moment's delay he despatched a messenger to the Chief Justice, desiring him to arrest Lord Somerset.

Sir Edward Coke at that time lived in the Temple, and so methodically did he measure out his time, that every hour had its appointed usage. One of his rules was to go to bed at nine of the clock, and to rise at three in the morning.

The Royal messenger arrived at the Temple about 1 a.m., and at once proceeded to Sir Edward's lodging. Sir Edward's son was there, and also some friends, but the Chief Justice was in bed.

Mr. Coke therefore received the messenger, who said:

"I come, sir, from His Majesty the King, and must have instant speech with your father."

"Though you come from the King," said Mr. Coke, "you cannot and shall not see my father, for if he be disturbed in his sleep he will not be fit for any business; but if you will do as we do, you shall be welcome. In two hours my father will rise, and you can then do as you please."

To this proposal the messenger was compelled to assent, so he waited.

At three o'clock, Sir Edward rang a little bell to give notice to his servant to come to him.

The Royal messenger then entered, and gave the King's letter to the Chief Justice, who at once made out the warrant for Somerset's apprehension.

The messenger went post-haste back to Royston with the warrant, and on being introduced into the Royal presence, found the King sitting with his arm round the favourite's neck.

When the officer with the fatal document entered the room, James was saying to the man whom he himself was causing to be arrested on a charge of murder: "When shall I see thee again?" the favourite being on the eve of his departure for London.

Somerset, when arrested by Sir Edward's warrant, exclaimed indignantly at the affront thus offered to a peer of the realm, even in the presence of the King's Majesty. In his anger he appealed to James.

"Nay, man," said the King, "if Coke sends for _me_, I must go."

No sooner, however, was Somerset out of the room, than his wily master added:

"Now the de'il go with thee, man, for I will never see thy face any more."

It is difficult to understand what was really the King's belief, or what were really the King's motives, on this occasion.

To some persons he asserted that he did not believe Somerset had anything to do with the actual murder. Yet it was he who caused his favourite to be arrested; and when that arrest had been made and the Chief Justice had arrived at Royston, the King spoke with exceeding angry energy, charging Sir Edward to prosecute the affair with the utmost diligence.

He was to search into the very bottom of the conspiracy, and to spare no man, however great he might be; the King concluding his adjuration thus:

"God's curse be upon you and yours if _you_ spare any of them, and God's curse be upon _me_ and mine, if _I_ spare any one of them."

Not only the Earl of Somerset, but his wife, the young and beautiful Countess of Somerset, was also arrested as being implicated in the crime; and whilst their trials were in course of preparation, many other persons of inferior rank were tried, condemned, and executed.

On the 7th November, Mrs. Anne Turner, who had been about Lady Somerset from her childhood, was tried, convicted, and hanged.

On the 16th of the same month, Sir George Ellways, Lieutenant of the Tower, was also convicted, and was hanged on Tower Hill on the 20th.

A week later, namely, on the 27th, James Franklin was tried, convicted, and, a few days afterwards, hanged.

It might have been supposed that so many trials and executions showed no want of zeal on the part of the Chief Justice and the other Commissioners. Yet notwithstanding so sanguinary a list, Sir Edward fell into disfavour for not hunting down and giving over to the gibbet more of these miserable victims--victims who in all probability had been but the creatures and tools of those who were far more deeply implicated, and far more deeply culpable.

It has been supposed that the friends of Somerset trusted that the nation would at length weary of so much bloodshed, and that time and political events would cause the recollection of one black crime to fade away.

At any rate, the delays which were for ever arising before Lord and Lady Somerset could be brought to trial, were mainly attributed to the unwillingness of many great personages (if not actually the Court) to have certain secret transactions disclosed.

At length, however, the trial took place, Lord Chancellor Ellesmere sitting as High Steward.

The King's instructions were produced to the Commissioners, by which they were directed to try, first:

"Whether there were good grounds to believe the Lord and Lady guilty, and if not, they were then to inquire after the authors of the conspiracy."

The same instructions were afterwards produced to the Lords, both as evidence of the King's care and impartiality, and also as proof of the Commissioners' diligence in this business.

Lady Somerset, who was tried first, gave her judges but little trouble. Great as had been her position, brilliant as were her surroundings, to this young and beautiful, but most erring and passionate woman, life had early lost its charms. She was sated both with its pleasures and its crimes, and when placed on her trial at once pleaded guilty.

The next day, May 25th, her husband, Lord Somerset, was placed at the bar, and after a trial that lasted twelve hours, his peers pronounced the verdict of guilty.

The Lord Chief Justice considered himself entitled to, and, indeed, gained much credit from the nation generally, for the zeal and acuteness he had displayed throughout the whole progress of this terrible and mysterious affair; but though the King had expressed himself with such vehemence when commanding the matter should be thoroughly sifted, from the period of this trial Sir Edward fell into disfavour, both with His Majesty and with all the Royal favourites.

From this moment they, one after another, endeavoured to accomplish his ruin. They seized every opportunity of misrepresenting his conduct to the King, and as, unfortunately for the Chief Justice, serious disputes had arisen both in the Court of Chancery and in the Court of King's Bench, the proceedings of Coke were impugned on all sides.

His arrogant temper, his haughty manner of speech, the intolerance he displayed to all who might presume to differ from him, made him many personal enemies, and created around him a very army of foes.

The very fact, also, of his being so able a lawyer, so consummate a master of his profession, did but increase the rancour of those whom he had so haughtily rebuffed.

In all such encounters he almost invariably proved he was right both in law and in fact, and then the bitter words of his scorn stung the vanquished like a whip of scorpions.

There were very few persons, therefore, who would not rejoice in his humiliation and his fall; but amongst his many opponents, the most inveterate, the most powerful, and the most rancorous, was Lord Villiers, afterwards Duke of Buckingham.

Sir Edward had opposed with no small decision some matter that concerned the favourite's imperious will and pleasure, and Villiers exerted to the utmost his powerful influence to ruin the Chief Justice.

These intrigues resulted in Coke's being suspended from his office on June 30th, 1616. Sir Randolph Carew was commissioned to go Circuit, and in the following November, Sir Henry Mountague received the appointment of Lord Chief Justice.

It was during this enforced retirement from Court and public life, that Sir Edward Coke's higher qualities exhibited themselves in their most favourable light, and he showed the world with what calmness and courage he could support adversity.

The dignity that his vehemence had so often endangered during the days of his prosperity, now in the hours of adversity never failed him; and however bitter and undeserved the attacks made upon him, he either passed them over without notice, or replied to them in words of calm moderation.

His many legal works, his many letters to friends at this period, indicate with what resignation, nay, even with what content, he bore the loss of the power that had been so dear to him. Both his actions and his words testify how cheerfully he contemplated the end of all his ambitious projects, and looked forward to a life of complete retirement.

But so admirable a lawyer, so able a judge, was not destined to be long unemployed.

After his disgrace, men of far inferior talent had been placed in high stations; but ere much time had elapsed it soon became evident that the new Ministers and judges were unfit for the places to which they had been appointed.

When the ship is in danger or in a difficult position, the best pilot, however disagreeable he may be, must be called to the helm; and thus even those who had been most active in bringing about Sir Edward's fall, found it to their own interest to smooth the way towards his restoration to the King's favour.

For some time there had been serious differences amongst the Ministers, and at length the quarrel between the Lord Keeper Bacon and Mr. Secretary Winwood rose to such a pitch that they refused to sit in Council together.

It was at this juncture that the aid of so talented a man as the late Chief Justice was imperatively needed.

Unhappily, Coke was not content to let matters take their course, and to remain quietly on the pedestal he had so deservedly gained for himself, namely, to rest on his great reputation of being the soundest and most skilful lawyer in the United Kingdom. He thought to strengthen his position by an alliance with the family of the still powerful favourite, the Earl, afterwards the Duke of Buckingham, the famous "Steenie." For this purpose he negotiated a marriage between his youngest daughter by his second wife, Lady Hatton, and Sir John Villiers, the Earl's eldest brother.